Ascendancy
by AdorkableBecca
Summary: Kurt learns about love and control after having a prolonged period of depression when things go wrong with Blaine.
1. Chapter 1

Something about the way that there was yet to be a big snowfall in Ohio, even though it was already December made Kurt feel extremely gloomy despite the holiday season. He sat by his window examining the somber atmosphere outside the Hummel-Hudson home. Without the blanket of snow, Kurt had trouble retaining that the holidays were near, and the landscape looked simply bereft of life without the typical snow blanket canopying the hard ground.

Kurt sighed out of his bath robe and walked fruitlessly away from the windowseat to his closet. He selected skinnies, a tee, and a hoody, with his plain black converse, and examined himself in his three-way mirror. Something about his dreary mood made him feel drab and dismal, so he went back to his closet and chose something more spirited, hoping it would brighten his mood. Yellow skinnies with a sweater-dress and his favorite boots looked far more Kurt-ly, but no matter what he wore he simply didn't feel like himself.

Maybe a sassy hat was what he needed to cheer him up, or perhaps one of the hair styles he'd been itching to test. While styling and re-styling his hair, his phone buzzed on the counter beside him. He checked the name and was surprised to see a picture message from Sebastian. He opened his phone to a picture of Blaine and Sebastian, dancing together at Scandlels from the night they all went out to the gay bar together. Kurt closed the message and went back to his tresses, but something about the photo seemed uneasy. He opened the message again and studied it closely.

Indeed it was Blaine and Sebastian, but Blaine was not wearing the same ensemble that Kurt remembered, and Sebastian's Dalton Academy tie was around Blaine's neck, and they were much, much closer than Kurt remembered. He dropped his bedazzled phone to the hard tile floor and sank to the ground.

"Slow down, Kurt, don't jump to conclusions," he thought as he reached for his phone to interrogate Blaine, but the fall had fractured it beyond repair, so he reached for his iPod which was sitting under his mirror blasting music in his small bathroom. He went to facebook, but centered in his newsfeed was the same photo he had seen on his phone. He had a message from Blaine too.

"Kurt… I know you've seen the photos, but I swear, I was sooooo drunk. I would never hurt you like this sober... I love you."

Kurt responded back quickly and painfully, "So why were you with him in the first place? Please just give me some time to think about things," and with that, his iPod died, and he didn't care to return it to the charger.

Something inside the already fragile Kurt was swiftly breaking. He sank back to the floor and cried silently into his shaggy rug. Nothing in his life was really so bad. Kurt felt deep down that Blaine really did care; he had fabulous friends; he was a tremendous student and quite possibly on his way to college in New York, but he felt like his life was going to hell. He opened his eyes and stared into the porcelain of his toilet. On the floor in front of him was broken barrette, with the sharp metal piece on the floor separated from the bejeweled plastic decorative piece. He picked it up and studied it in his hands.

The idea that ran through his head was absurd. He knew it was pathetic, dangerous, and a cry for attention, but still, something was beckoning him to do it. He pulled back his left sleeve and studied his wrists. The bluish silhouette of his veins were visible all the way from the soft crease of his elbow to his bony wrist. Something inside him possessed Kurt to run the sharp metal piece across his wrist, and he let it take him over. The skin didn't break, all that was left was a very faint white scratch that would disappear within a few hours.

_Harder_

The inside-thing took control, and he closed his eyes and slashed again, this time slightly harder and faster. He opened his eyes. A similar, but slightly darker, white scratch parallel to the one before shown, but this time tiny beads of blood oozed out. Leaving his trance, Kurt searched his mind for answers.

Why was this sting supposed to help? Maybe he wasn't doing this right… Was he a cutter now? Maybe a "scratcher?" Was he emo? Did this mean he had to wear black all the time, because that would really put a damper on his summer wardrobe…

He became slowly more aware of the pain. It was a tolerable stinging, and he assumed he was doing something wrong. He didn't feel better, but he somehow didn't feel any worse, and maybe that was the reward. He looked at the two cuts on his wrist again. The first was nearly completely faded, and the second was nothing, and the pain had already stopped. He put two more parallel cuts with the same force as the first one, pulled down his sleeve and left the room.

Weeks went on which developed into months, where Kurt kept up his ritual. The same feeling of numbness was something he desperately sought, never feeling better, but never feeling worse. He kept up the same four scratches. Whenever one faded, he added another, but there were always four, and they were always parallel. This system made sure Kurt was always in control. It assured he never cut to deep or too much. The underside of his lower arm was always sore, and he always held his sleeves far below his wrists, wrapping his hands as well as his secret in sweaters and jackets. Six months passed by where Kurt was able to protect his shameful secret from his friends and family.


	2. Chapter 2

Once June rolled around, even in Ohio it was impossible for Kurt to constantly wear his long sleeves, so he utilized his summer wardrobe and covered his scars with wrist bands and make up when necessary. The vibrant colors and floral prints which dominated his summer clothing felt all wrong though.

Six months ago he took some time off his relationship with Blaine, then on Christmas Eve he broke it off officially. His friends assumed his lack of communication and the depression he had sunk into was a consequence of his relationship troubles, and Mercedes and Rachel were constantly urging him to give Blaine another chance. However, Kurt cared nothing of Blaine or anything as petty as high school relationships, which drug him even further into his dejection. Kurt felt like there was nothing he could control in his life anymore, not even his emotions, or lack thereof. He wanted to feel pain for losing Blaine, but he couldn't make himself, and that was when he went up to his bathroom and shut the door.

When his inside-thing took over, he had control its world. He abandoned his ritual of four cuts, and he cut deeper now, no longer caring to leave small scratches. Kurt controlled how deep he could cut and how many times he would run the sharp edge across his thin wrist. He came close to being caught by his dad and Finn and even Carole a few times, but the thrill of keeping the secret made Kurt want to do it even more.

One bright summery morning, Kurt was greeted during breakfast by Rachel, Mercedes, and Finn, whom he surmised had been dragged into this plot by Rachel. The group declared they were taking him to the mall to awaken the high spirited Kurt they had known so well before his prolonged slump into depression.

"What you need is some new shoes," Rachel began as they stepped out the door together, "and don't worry, we've pulled some money together, and everything is on us today."

"Oh… guys, that wasn't necessary. I don't really feel like shopping," Kurt said, slowing his pace.

"Which is exactly why you need to go," Mercedes chimed in. "You've been depressed ever since you broke up with Blaine, and I know it hurts but you really need to get over him."

Kurt sighed. He wished his friends could understand, but Kurt didn't know how to explain his pain. Without much other choice, Kurt decided to go along with his friends, but also that he hide to hide his depression from them. Like his lack of feelings for Blaine and his cutting, his depression was another thing that his friends could never understand.

After buying a new pair of red skinnies and a matching tee after some insistence from Mercedes, the group was sitting down to tots and diet Coke in the food court. Kurt put on his best fake smile and sipped his Coke quietly. While scanning the crowds at the mall, he saw Blaine and another guy walking very closely, and then hand-in-hand entering the GAP. Kurt stared at them for a moment, which got the other group members attention, and he rushed to the restroom, taking a plastic spork with him.

Kurt sank to the floor in the bathroom, without hesitating to think of how filthy public bathrooms are, and sobbed silently into his sleeves. He didn't understand how he was feeling… He was guilty and sorry for leaving Blaine. Kurt hugged himself, he needed something he could have control over. He remembered his spork, and snapped the plastic in half. With the jagged broken handle, he ran put a two new scars across his wrist and watched the blood bead out.

"Kurt, what the hell?"

He looked up from his trance to see Finn standing over him.

"Kurt," Finn said softly, looking at his step brother's bloody left wrist, "I'm going to take you home, come on..."

Without looking him in the eye, Finn helped up his brother up and over to the sink. He moved Kurts wrist under the faucet and silently retrieved a wad of paper towels. He returned to Kurt and pressed them to his jagged cuts, but Kurt pulled his wrist away.

"Please Kurt," Finn said. "It's still bleeding, you need to apply pressure."

Kurt hesitantly gave his arm back to Finn, shamefully looking the other direction.

The running water sounded very loud in the tense public bathroom unti the sound was broken by Rachel's voice. "Kurt, Finn, is everything alright?" the two heard from the doorway. Rachel and Mercedes were checking up on them.

"Yeah, he cut his arm in the way in hear, we're just cleaning it up," Finn said, his voice shaky.

"Are you okay?" Mercedes called.

Kurt paused a moment to calm himself, "Ye-yes. I'm fine. Finn's going to drive me home. You guys can stay, I don't want to ruin your day out."

"No, it wont be any fun without you. Do you want us to come to your house?" Rachel called.

"No!" Finn blurted. "Umm... Burt's painting the...everything. He's repainting everything."

"There was no paint this morning," Mercedes interjected.

"He was planning on starting today. We don't want to be in his way. I'll just take Kurt home and we can all hang out later this week," Finn said,putting the finishing touches on a paper-towel bandage. He led Kurt out of the bathroom. Finn shuddered as he took one last glance at the broken spork in the corner.

"We can get a ride home. We'll see you guys later, okay?" Rachel said, hugging Kurt with Mercedes following her lead.

Kurt nodded and looked away.

"We're really sorry Kurt," Mercedes whispered as she hugged her best friend. "Text me."

Rachel kissed Finn goodbye and the the group parted.

It was a long and awkward drive home for the two step brothers. Finn kept his eyes on the road, and Kurt stared blankly out the passenger window. When they reached the house they silently entered together, they were the only ones home

.

Finn turned to Kurt, making eye contact with him for the first time. He opened his mouth to speak, but only incoherent syllables came out. He took Kurt in his arms and hugged him quickly.

"Be careful, Bro," he told him, and then he swiftly exited to his room.

Kurt made his way to his own room, shaking slightly. For the first time ever, his ritual had made him feel worse.


	3. Chapter 3

Finn shut the door to his room and sunk down onto his bed, kicking his shoes off.

Of course Finn knew Kurt was depressed. It was obvious that his breakup with Blaine had allowed him to spiral into his depression, but he would never have assumed Kurt would hurt himself. The thought of Kurt digging the spork accross his wrist made Finn shudder. He couldn't understand his step brother's habit.  
>Finn knew he should confront Kurt about what had happened, but he didn't know how. He wasn't sure what Kurt was going through, and he didn't know how he could help him through it. Finn's confusion drove him crazy, and he couldn't understand why. Of course Kurt was his step brother, and he cared about him, but they were never close. Kurt had always tried to have deep conversations with Finn, but he had always pushed him away. Now he wished he hadn't shrugged away from Kurt... maybe then he could help him.<p>

In his confusion, Finn had accidentally punched the frame of a picture of himself and Rachel, leaving the pieces shattered on the floor. Something occured to Finn, and he picked up a long sharp shard of glass and examined it. Without much thought, Finn ran the glass across his left wrist. 

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" he exclaimed, clenching his stinging, bleeding wrist and throwing out more profanities. Finn didn't feel emotionally changed at all from the experience; he simply felt physical pain.

Finn's episode had caused Kurt to come peek into the doorway of Finn's room.

"Finn, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt asked with pain in his eyes, grasping his brother's wrist and applying pressure to the single cut.

"I-I dunno, something stupid, I'm not going to do it again," Finn answered embarrassedly. 

"I've told myself that plenty of times..." Kurt mumbled. 

Finn knew this was his chance to start a conversation and to understand.

"Kurt... Can I see?" Finn asked. Kurt crossed his arms, keeping his left wrist pressed against his slender body. The position seemed so familiar to Finn. He wondered how long this had been going on. "Please?"

Kurt huffed and turned over his thin white arm to show a horrible display of cross hatches on his small bony wrist. Some of the wounds were a very dark red, while some had faded to a tan, and others were only a silvery line. As Finn examined, tears came to Kurt's eyes, and he pulled his wrist away. 

"Kurt, I wanna help," Finn told him, not knowing what else to say.

Kurt's tears came faster and he took a moment before he could coherently answer Finn. "I don't need help. I'm not in danger. I'm in control."

"But you're hurting yourself."

"Not really. They heal," he answered, holding out his wrist once more pointing at the silvery scars.

"But do you heal?" Finn asked. "You've been this way for too long Kurt... How long?"

"December," Kurt answered.

"So this is because of Blaine, because if you love him-"

"No."

"Huh," Finn stopped. "Then what is it? Why do you hurt, Kurt?"

"Because... because... because I don't know why. I can't control how I feel, and... and I don't know how I feel," Kurt answered through his sobs.

Finn awkwardly patted his step-brother on the back. He didn't know what to say or how to comfort him, and he suddenly found tears in his own eyes.

"I don't know how I feel either sometimes, Kurt," he said. Then Finn wrapped his arms around Kurt, pulling him into a hug.

"Do you know how you feel right now?" Kurt wondered aloud. Instead of answering, Finn leaned in to kiss his step brother on his soft lips. When Finn pulled away, cheeks red and tears in his eyes, Kurt was smiling for the first time in six months.


End file.
